“A miracle of engineering,” he offered.“They say it can pull a railcar the length of Grosvenor Square without so much as a wheeze.”
Her eyes stayed fixed on the machine.“Mr.Stephenson’s work, is it not?”
He turned to her, surprise lighting his gaze.“You read engineering journals?”
“Only when the gossip columns bore me.”
Clara saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes and felt a strange satisfaction bloom in her chest.Still, she wasn’t sure if she enjoyed impressing him or unsettling him more.
His smile turned real.“You are wasted on the drawing room set.”
“Say that too loudly,” she murmured, flicking her eyes to the crowd, “and you will be forced to marry me for my mind alone.”The words came lightly, but an odd tightness curled in her stomach.Joking about marriage with Crispin felt like walking a tightrope.Thrilling and precarious all at once.Did he hear it as banter?Or as the truth she was starting to want?
“Would that be so dreadful?”He asked, his gaze holding hers.
She pretended to ponder.“More so for you than for me, I expect.”
Before he could say more, the press of bodies and the sharp scent of oil nudged them forward.He led them to a quieter chamber, the air warm with varnish and sawdust.Automata lined a velvet-draped table.A prancing goat, a whistling monkey, and in the center, a golden nightingale adorned with lapis feathers, glimmering as if it might take flight.
Crispin saw her then.Not the composed lady of the ton, but something unguarded, with a quiet vulnerability and rare honesty that stripped away every performance.
She stepped close, her hand lifting, then halting just shy of the glass.“It is beautiful,” she said, wonder softening her features.“I have never seen one so perfect.”
He nodded to the attendant.“Would you show it to us?”
The young man lit up.“Of course, my lord.”
With a turn of a silver key, the bird came to life.Its breast rising, beak parting, releasing a trill so clear and haunting the whole room stilled.
Clara listened, transfixed.A lump formed in her throat, sudden and inexplicable.Something about the fragile, perfect sound pierced her defenses.
It spoke of solitude and longing, of being seen and cherished just as one was.For one breathless moment, she felt at peace in a way she had not in weeks.It was as if the bird sang not for the crowd, but for her alone, a small, aching gift of beauty meant to reach the part of her she kept hidden.
When the song faded, she looked up at Crispin.
For a single suspended breath, she forgot the surrounding room.The sound of the automaton still echoed faintly in her chest, threading through her.Then, just as swiftly, she mastered her expression, chin lifting, spine straightening.In that moment, he saw the girl she had been before society taught her to hide behind poise and precision.
“Thank you,” she said coolly, and moved on, taking Crispin with her.
They paused at a case of Indian treasures.Vibrant silks, ivory, and a starburst of jewel-encrusted knives.Clara lingered, her gaze studying the jewels.
“Beautiful,” he said, unsure if he meant the weapons or the woman.The admission slipped out before he could check it, and for a heartbeat he wondered if she could hear the weight behind it.Did she notice his lingering gaze, his quickened pulse?He did not know when his fascination had shifted from amusement to something more perilous than fascination, but it had.
She traced a finger along the glass.“Yes.But a little sad.Meant for danger, now caged for display.”
“Most dangerous things are,” he said.“Tamed by polite society.”
She glanced up.“Is that your fate, then?”The words came too softly, but her heart beat loudly behind them.She was no longer sure if she was teasing him, or asking for something she wasn’t ready to name.
“Only if you are holding the leash.”
Their eyes locked.A pause stretched between them, charged and trembling, until a high, nasal laugh cracked it like glass.
Two matrons lingered nearby, voices pitched low behind fluttering fans, their eyes darting toward Clara and Crispin with poorly concealed curiosity.
“She cannot truly wish to marry such a man.”
“I daresay not.There must be more behind it.”
